


Sunset of Fireflies

by Maesonry



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dark Comedy, F/M, Freddy Just Straight Up Is Dead, Fridge Horror, Gen, Horror, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Jake Park vs the World, Mary Sue, Out of Character Because Plot, POV Second Person, POV Third Person, Parody, Please Don't Kill Me, Please Kill Me, Psychological Horror, Reader-Insert, References to My Immortal, Satire, Slight fluff, and they wanted you dead, technically, you’d be scared too if someone suddenly showed up and defied both god and death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-03-09 05:56:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18910933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maesonry/pseuds/Maesonry
Summary: Prompt: Wouldn’t it be terrifying to be the only character to notice a Mary Sue?Ever since the newest Survivor showed up, things have been strange, and no one has been acting normal. Though, it seems Jake is the only one who realizes this- and one certain Killer, too. When Elyzabeth decides they don’t fit into her perfect story anymore, things are going to go from bad to worse.”Your name is Elyzabeth, and you’re stuck in the Dead by Daylight world. And worse, you seem to have caught the eye of some certain Killer(s). What will you do? Will you survive? And will you Escape?”...





	1. Saltare

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [My Immortal](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/482923) by Tara Gilesbie. 



> This is half a parody/satire, half an actual serious work. It’s inspired by the ever famous “My Immortal,” And I asked myself, “wouldn’t it be terrifying to be the only character who notices a Mary Sue?” 
> 
> Not inspired by any stories in this fandom, because I cannot read.

Shadows, metal, and fog. That’s what this realm was characterized by. Those fleeting scents and clawing sights, darkness that curled around the edges. In the Entity’s Realm, those things were constant and unchanging. In a lawless world, it seemed comforting to have those few things remain.

And then, She showed up.

It should’ve just been another Survivor. It should’ve been the same as always, yet another face at the campfire, yet another soul lost and confused. Nothing should’ve changed. 

But Elyzabeth (she called herself) changed everything. So slowly that no one noticed at first. It could’ve been called insidious, but it was without cruelty. Without thought, too. Just a smile, and one day, all the Survivors liked her, and all the Killers loved her. 

All but two. 

Imposing order on a lawless realm also meant stagnation. It meant a slow and tortured death, for everything and everything. 

For the first time in its existence, the Entity was afraid.


	2. Reprimere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters from Elyzabeth’s POV are intentionally bad, yes. The rest of the story is actually bearable though

Everyone is the hero of their own story.

Your name is Elyzabeth, or rather, Elyzabeth Amantha Rowan Nightingale. You’re a Survivor- but, not just any Survivor, no. You are the Survivor that will save everyone. But you wish you were normal.

To keep with the trend, you describe yourself in immaculate detail. You have long black hair that goes past your waist and pale white skin and eyes that shine like green emeralds. You’re very beautiful, but you don’t think that’s true, because unlike other girls you are ugly. It’s just true. It doesn’t matter what anyone else says, because you know that deep down, you are too skinny to be really beautiful. It’s a curse.

Anyways.

Ever since you’ve ended up here, you’ve been in hell. Because you have to survive over and over again against people that wanna kill you. Hence the name ‘Killers’. And to make matters worse, you have...

Feelings. For some of them.

Like, Michael Myers- he’s so handsome (even though you can’t see his face), and he is so tall and mysterious. Or, the Doctor, who is also so tall and mysterious and handsome, with a beautiful voice. Or the Trapper, who much like the others, is tall and handsome, but gruff and strong. And then the Wraith, who is tall, and handsome, and silent and sweet.

If you were normal, you wouldn’t have to deal with this. But you aren’t normal. Not a normal girl, like you wish you were. And every trial is so hard because it reminds you of your ~~tragic backstory~~ past.

Oh, yes, your past past... even now, remembering it makes you sigh and bite your lip. These stories aren’t complete without them. You were an orphan (it’s so sad, after your parents died in a vague and nondescript way) and then you were adopted and then your adoptive parents were very mean- as is the style of these stories, where abuse is only a plot device without sensitivity. You cried every day and they called you ugly and made you clean the house- maybe that’s Cinderella actually. Whatever. 

Anyway, yes, your tragic backstory. You’re only sixteen- but you act so mature so it’s fine! And you ran away at sixteen, and then you ended up in a forest, and then, oh no, that’s when It Happened. The Entity found you. And you somehow ended up here, stuck repeating the same task over and over, and running from Killers.

Your pale blue eyes like limpid tears cry actual tears as you remember and get sad.

Yes, you cry tears from your beautiful purple eyes and your hair falls around you in waves, a striking frame to a depressing portrait. 

“What’s wrong, Elyzabeth?” asks Dwight. Dwight is nervous all the time so he decided to make you the leader of the group of survivors. You accepted it as your burden. You cry again.

“I’m sorry, I’m just so sad,” you whisper. Dwight makes sad noises and comforts you with a shoulder pat. It is very calming and you stop crying, though you do sniffle loudly and whimper in a stoic fashion.

“Don’t worry, Amantha,” Meg says from somewhere suddenly nearby. Meg loved you like a sister and you’re both super close. You sniffle again, and Meg continues, “We’ll get out of this.”

For no well explained reason, Claudette also chimes in, holding up a medical kit, “And if anything happens, I can help patch you up.”

Though you both know that wasn’t true, because the only time you’ll be injured would be if it was plot important, and by then, only true love’s kiss would solve it or something.

You smile wide at your friends. All of the Survivors lov you and you love them, and even though you’re a better leader than Dwight and a better runner than Meg and a better healer than Claudette- etc etc- you always count on them. And one day, you’ll all get out- you know it.

“Thanks, guys!”

And from the sidelines, Jake Park watched, a suspicious look in his quiet eyes. He said nothing, and turned away. No one noticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re here for the slash then don’t you worry none, the tags are gonna be even more relevant later


	3. Vivere

Jake Park... sighed. Not a depressed sigh, not a dramatic sigh. No, just a normal sigh. A tired sigh, exhale of air, and slight downturn of his head.

He’d been sighing a lot lately.

When he looked back up at the campfire, though, that same feeling burbled up again- the reason for his sighing. Elyzabeth Amantha Rowan Nightingale. Or, something. Despite her insistence on using the full name for the entire time since she’d shown up, Jake still had trouble remembering it. 

Right now, she was making some kind of joke- she had on the ‘I made a joke’ smile, like a cat that was about to throw up. Everyone laughed. _Everyone_ , even Bill, who Jake had only ever seen laugh three times before, and two of those times had to do with Dwight getting stuck in a window.

Maybe not everyone, actually, seeing as Jake didn’t laugh. He didn’t feel the urge to laugh. He didn’t hear what was even said, but then again, Nea was on the opposite side of camp, and that hadn’t seemed to stop her.

So Jake clammed up the urge to sigh, and continued to watch.

“This isn’t normal,” a quiet murmur, Jake’s voice lost between the trees and the continuing sounds of laughter. Elyzabeth- something wasn’t right. Wherever they were, this place had at least some rules. And suddenly, Elyzabeth had showed up, and all those rules just... 

Crackled and died like a smothered campfire.

Jake blinked, but couldn’t help himself, couldn’t _not_ glance over to Quentin. And Quentin was, was actually sleeping. Quentin, who had only ever slept in snatches during trials, when he begged Jake to keep watch for a second. Never at the campfire. Never.

But, then again, just yesterday Freddy had been killed. So Quentin could probably sleep wherever he wanted now.

Elyzabeth’s smile was all teeth as she glanced over to Jake, and her eyes seemed to twinkle. Jake didn’t shudder. He didn’t shudder, but he wanted to. Freddy was dead (good fucking riddance) and Jake had this sinking feeling that it was Elyzabeth that did it. And she smiled at Jake like he was going to be next.

“Jake!” she called. Eerily, every noise at the campfire went silent, and all the other Survivors turned to him too. Jake put on an attempt at a smile.

“Huh?”

Elyzabeth tilted her head, her impossible hair rippling like waves and shining in the darkness. Painted lips smiled at him, and she spoke, voice a paradox of warmth and bells, “Are you alright?”

Everyone murmured with her, snatches of sympathy and adoration. Jake just blinked. His wooden smile splintered under the weight of her gaze, but he taped it back together, held it high, “Just... worried. About you.”

Near silence again. And Jake wondered if that was the wrong thing to say, if that had landed him firmly in the enemy territory with her-

Until she laughed.

She turned away, and giggled, and everyone made smiles with her, and Jake felt a chill still seize his heart as she looked away. 

He felt helpless. He watched Quentin, still sleeping, and he felt useless and helpless and so, angry. This stranger had done something to his friends, and even to the Killers, and Jake couldn’t do anything to stop her. It wouldn’t be long until he was gone too. So he hunched in on himself and stared off into the darkness of the woods. 

And he almost missed the gentle coo of a crow. Jake blinked, tearing his gaze away, and then landing on the bird. He extended a hand, and gently, it hopped forward. Jake’s smile was sad.

“Hey, buddy,” and Jake ran his fingers over the feathers, “Sorry. Haven’t been around much, have I?”

The bird stared at him with too intelligent eyes, and then, almost suddenly, it hopped down. It made sure Jake was watching as it cawed once, then flew into the woods at a slow pace. Like it wanted him to follow.

Jake didn’t even hesitate as he followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is Amanda and Jake. Chapter after that returns the POV to Elyzabeth, and I get to expand upon her wacky love, square? More like a love corkboard, with a bunch of lines leading around and what have you
> 
> Then I get the even more fun part of ramping up the horror, whoo whoo


	4. Chiudere

The forest was quiet. Not eerily quiet, since it was always this quiet, but the silence was still just a little unnerving. Great swaths of fog made banks around the trees, and dead leaves crunched underfoot, branches bone dry. 

Jake felt right at home.

The crow kept pace with Jake, leading him through the forest, dodging around low hanging limbs and the occasional fallen log. Jake wondered, just for a moment, where he was going. 

And the answer came quickly after, as the treeline broke, and a small clearing revealed itself. The crow fluttered and called, and then circled around some point in the darkness, joined by a few others. Jake blinked. Cleared his throat.

“Hello?” his voice low and careful. There was a dark shape crouched beside a log, and Jake cautiously crept towards it, breathing steadily, heads slightly outstretched. The shadow twitched.

Only a few feet away, it suddenly moved, raising an arm up and waving it at a nearby crow.

“Get out of here,” they growled, though either at the bird or Jake was uncertain. It was a voice that unfamiliar, and yet, if Jake thought about it, it seemed like he’d heard it before. Only a few steps away, and it became clear who it was, as the figure turned around, and there was the Pig. Unmasked, she had a disgruntled expression, dark hair that fell around her shoulders and a glare in her eyes. 

The two stared at each other. And it was unmoving and a near silence, for about a minute, until the crow she had shooed away came to land next to Jake. It made itself known, loudly. And repeatedly. 

“Hey, shhh,” Jake finally spoke, picking the crow up and sending it away. But that seemed to have broken the tension, as the two stared at each other again, and the Pig was the first to speak.

“Let me guess, that girl- Elyzabeth- sent you?” her expression matched her tone, and the words dripped with derision. Surprisingly, that was the best thing Jake had heard all week.

“No,” and then Jake shoved his hands into his pockets, “She. Uh. I, hate her.”

The Pig stared at Jake. Jake stared at the Pig. 

A scarred smile. Vicious, relieved. 

“Oh thank god,” and then the Pig leaned back, looking at Jake, gesturing to the other spot near the log, “Hey. Sit with me for a bit. I promise I won’t do anything.”

Really, she could’ve said she was going to kill him after the conversation was done, and Jake would still have sat down. That’s how relieved he felt. He plopped himself onto the ground, digging a crow from out of his hood and setting it away, and then turned back. The Pig was rummaging around in her pockets.

“Shit. Give me a second,” and unprompted, she added, “You can call me Amanda right now, if you want,” and then she pulled out some kind of box, began to open it, “You know, since I think we’re the only ones who aren’t crazy.”

She extended something to Jake. A cigarette. Jake accepted with a small shrug, and a curious expression.

“How?” he turned it over, looking. Back up.

“Whatever that girl is doing to this place, the rules are all weird now. Means I can actually get these,” and then Amanda was lighting her cigarette, glancing over to Jake, “You smoke?”

Jake stared at his cigarette. 

“No,” but he lit his anyway. The smell reminded him of the stores around his old town, before whatever this way. Small comforts. The smoke burned his throat, something to pay attention to, something to focus on. The exhales reminded him of winter.

“So,” eventually, Amanda spoke, picking at her nails, “Elyzabeth.”

Jake stopped staring at the air, attention coming back, and he unclenched his hand against the cold as he mulled his words over, “She’s, impossible. Everyone around her is acting weird. Not normal,” and Jake was trying to put into words just how unsettling that was, just how disturbing it was that Meg suddenly knew about fashion, that Nea became all soft spoken and that Quentin didn’t even pay attention to Jake anymore. It was hard, and Jake struggled, “I think David has a crush on her. And, David’s _gay_.”

Amanda just nodded, vaguely attempting to emulate a sage but two times as tired, idly watching the cigarette burn towards her fingers.

“Your friend, the blue haired one- Feng. She threw herself at me to save Elyzabeth. And so did all the other Survivors,” Amanda looked torn between delighted and disturbed, but it leaned more towards disturbed when she paused, “But when I left the Trial, I think. I think some of the other Killers were following me, you know,” and she looked right at Jake, a slight edge of confused, angry fear to her eyes, “That tall one, Myers. I swear I saw him watching me.”

Elyzabeth was dangerous. And if she didn’t like you... 

Jake’s cigarette had burned to a stump, and was on the ground now, a little smoldering pile as he stared at it. Saying the words felt like confirming something, and confirming it meant being more afraid by what it could mean. But he had to ask. He had to know.

“What happed to Freddy?” 

Amanda’s head didn’t snap to him so much as her entire body seemed to tense. A bad history, the body language said. Jake could understand. And her sneer said even more, smiling at the edges.

“He’s dead,” she proclaimed, and if that was it, Jake would’ve been happy. If that was it, and it didn’t come with strings attached, that even Amanda seemed to realize, her smile slipping, “He’s dead. Someone murdered him, and he never. He never came back,” Amanda’s voice had gotten quieter as she went along. Pensive.

“I think Elyzabeth killed him,” Jake whispered.

And there it was. That was the most terrible thing he could have said, that she had killed Freddy. Not that he was dead, but that Elyzabeth had that power. That ability. That she could kill a Killer for good, permanently, forever. 

That it could be one of them next.

Jake and Amanda shared a tense moment of eye contact that relayed all of that with only a blink.

“We have to stop her,” Jake murmured, as a crow landed in his hands. It seemed desperate. Maybe Jake was just projecting, but the crows had all been on edge, and even the shadows seemed fearful. Like whatever was behind this place was just as scared. Amanda was looking at the bird with a furrowed expression, and as another one landed next to her and let out the saddest form of a call, her expression flickered to understanding. It would take a lot to scare the Entity, and yet, here they were.

So she agreed, “You’re right. I think we’re the only ones left, actually. And if we fail,” she watched the bird droop it’s head low, “then that’s it. For all of us.”

Elyzabeth had killed before and would kill again, never to come back. Anyone she didn’t like. Anyone to be a villain.

Amanda stood up suddenly, grabbing her mask and looking to the forest, “Shit. I think we need to go.”

Jake didn’t know what she’d seen, but he wasn’t going to argue. For now, they were partners- maybe not friends, but that was enough. Jake nodded and shooed some of the birds away, already turning, and couldn’t help himself as he whispered, “Be careful.”

In the darkness, the Pig’s smile was vicious and relieved.

“You too.”


	5. Mentire

Everything in this place never ends. And you know there isn’t a day or night and it’s always dusk, waiting for the sun. But the sun never comes.

You are sitting at the campfire. Everyone else is there too. You sigh and hunch in on yourself because you are depressed.

But- before any of your friends can try and comfort you, you blink and the fog thickens. And you know what that means. You gasp. And then you gasp again, having forgotten you gasped the first time.

You hate being chosen for the Trials. But you only close your eyes and felt very determined as you stand up. If you stay and don’t go, someone else will go. And you love your friends so you will be the one to go. After all, you are the strongest and must stand strong against the darkness. You are not a normal Survivor and you must help them all survive too.

You notice that three other Survivors stand up too: Nea, Jake, and Quentin. You smile in a sad way- so it’s not really much of a smile then. Yes, sad smile and what have you. You like Nea a lot; ever since she taught you how to spray paint and also helped you beat up Freddy. Everyone had cheered.

You also like Quentin a lot too. He’s very sweet and adorable. But you know he likes you too, and you don’t like that. Because everyone likes you. Even the girls, except in a platonic way. Quentin has a crush on you and that makes you feel even more depressed because you are cursed.

Jake isn’t very nice to you. Because he is mean- that is the reason. He ~~is scared of you~~ hates you for no reason. You think he’s upset because Quentin likes you, and you feel even more depressed because it’s not your fault. Jake will probably try to ~~run away~~ hurt you during the Trial. That’s okay; a slightly bitterly cruel smile graces your lips, all winter breeze and tepid rain, as you know what will happen to him soon- the same thing that happens to all the villains in stories: they die. And because you are the hero, and you are flawlessly perfect, it is only a matter of time.

Anyway. You are standing in the fog, and you spend about a paragraph describing your outfit. Needless to say, your outfit is very amazing and impractical, and likely has combat boots with heels and what else. You stare into the darkness.

And suddenly it falls away. And you blink, once, twice, before suddenly gasping and falling to your knees in the snow.

“It’s... it’s... Lèry’s... Memorial Institute,” you say with nine ellipses too many, and your short blond hair waves in an ominous breeze. The snow sticks to your outfit but you do not feel the cold. Only fear. You can’t help yourself as you cry a little. 

“Elyzabeth!” Nea shouts and runs over to you, shivering, “What’s wrong?”

Jake and Quentin are also here. You shudder and more beautiful tears slip from your pale red eyes, eyes shining and beautiful like gossamer butterfly wings. Jake flinches.

“I was in a place like this,” you cry. Your backstory of the tragic kind. Life was so unfair to you.

“I’m sorry,” Quentin pats you on the shoulders while Nea hugs you. Jack has taken another step back, and he has a mean expression on his mean face.

“I, thought you ran away as a child?” he asks. His voice is light and soft but you know that he’s being evil and cruel. You cry more.

“Yes but my family put me in here when I was ten,” you explain calmly while sobbing.

“Oh. Why?”

“Because-” and then you pause abruptly, the crying stopping, as you try to think of. Of an explanation for your backstory, “They hated me?” you furrow your brow, puzzling the question out, “I don’t know. I don’t need a reason. Because they were mean and they hated me.”

Jake just stares at you. You resume crying as though you hadn’t stopped. Nea glares at Jake.

“Stop being an asshole!” she snaps. Jake frowns, and then Nea continues for no well explained reason, “She doesn’t wanna talk about it! And her parents were very mean to her, all the time! It’s so sad and it makes me so sad!”

Jake has taken a few more steps back at this point, and he turns to Quentin with a strange expression. You decide it is an expression of cruelty, and not deep sadness. 

“Quentin-“ Jake tries.

Quentin just glares.

“Leave us alone, Jake.”

Nea and you nod together at the truth of the words, and Jake jerks back a step. Quentin hasn’t spoken to Jake in a while and this is the first thing he has said. You think that it is more dramatic that way.

So why isn’t Jake apologizing? No, he just looks at you with a very quiet expression and then turns away. It makes you feel ~~angry angry angry I hate you you’re ruining everything~~ sad.

“We should split up,” Jake says. His voice is whisper silent, and everyone stands up. You all nod.

You step forward and Quentin and Nea immediately follow you as you go to a gen. Unheard by you, Jake mutters, “I said _split up_ ,” and then follows too.

You all end up at a generator. Since you are skilled at repairing generators, you are working at a very fast speed. You give Nea and Quentin pointers on how to fix things better because they keep messing up.

Your mind wanders as you work. You’ve been to this Realm many times before actually, and every time you can’t help but think of... him. Herman Carter, the Doctor. You think about him and your heart flip flops and jumps around, because you can’t help yourself. It’s awful that you’re attracted to a Killer, but you are, and you smile at the memory of his smile. How strong he looks all the time.

And when you think of Herman you can’t help but think of the others too. It’s awful. You wish you weren’t so pretty and you wish that no one liked you. Your cropped blue hair is electric in the lights of the room and it reminds you of Michael’s coveralls. The clothes that only hide how strong he is, and you love how silent he is too. You feel safe when he is watching over you.

Just like with Philip. He is so silent but also you know he is secretly kind at heart, and he has a sad backstory like you. You know that you can help him out of this place so you all can be happy again. 

Evan is like Herman. They’re both so tall and strong, but Evan is gruff in a way that makes you blush. He once let you ride around on his shoulder and it made you blush even more, because he is tall and handsome.

But you’re depressed again. You can’t love these Killers- because they enjoy brutally dismembering and murdering your friends. And yet, you forgive them. Because you love them. 

You sigh. A single tear falls down your pale face and then yo-

A roar. The generator explodes as you jump off, and then you’re face to face with the Pig, rushing you. You have ample time to run away but suddenly you’re frozen. Jake yells something. You brace yourself for pain-

“NooO!” Quentin yells. He jumps in front of you, and takes the slash across his chest, falling to the ground.

“Quentin!” Jake’s voice, complete guttural agony that you don’t register as you gasp. The Pig glances to Jake and then away quickly. You turn around and start running, just as Jake rushes to Quentin on the ground. The Pig pursues you.

And so you run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I’m going somewhere with this


	6. Morire

You’re running. Not just any running, though: you are running for your (soon to be short) life. You jump over patches of glass on the ground, you leapt through conveniently open windows, and your beautiful hair trails behind yourself in the wind as tears sparkle from your eyes.

You’re so scared. Of being caught by this horrible Killer. She is so cruel, and unlike the other Killers, she is going to kill you dead. You know she won’t show mercy. She will not stop until you’re dead- and now it’s her fault that Quentin is dying too.

The heartbeat in your ears gets louder and louder and you cry more. Finally, or, inevitably, you trip. Over something, it doesn’t matter. You fall to the ground with a cry and a thud and then you’re whimpering, because it hurt, and you’re scared. You stare up at the Killer as she looms o-

Clunk. The Pig doesn’t even give you a moment to tearfully share eye contact as she shoves a trap on your head. You cry more. The trap is locked tight, and without any hesitation, the Pig hauls you up and begins to carry you to the hook. You don’t even struggle, because you’re so broken. 

Up you go with a belated whimper, and then the hook pierces your shoulder. You scream in a long, loud sound, like a bird falling from the sky and finding the Earth so cold and cruel, and more fat tears roll from your eyes.

The Pig seems to roll her eyes as she leaves.

Time passes. You can’t tell how long, but long enough for the author to convey how painful this is and how much you cry and etc. Suddenly, Nea appears from the shadows. Nea gives you a thumbs up, and then, she stands up tall and takes you from the hook, heaving you onto the ground. Somehow, your clothes and hair are completely immaculate.

“Elyzabeth!” Nea asks calmly, “Are you alright?!”

You nod. But then, you inhale and shudder.

“No, but there’s no time. We have to do generators so that we can escape.”

After all, you decide that generators are more important than getting the trap off your head. So you and Nea part ways and you go to do generators.

And you do the generator. Very well. You do it at a very fast speed, because you’re so good at doing generators for really no reason. Another part of your curse. It isn’t long until the generator dings, done, and you exhale with relief and go to find another.

The trap on your head doesn’t even so much as beep.

Two more generators come done under your hands. During this time, someone else has also done a few gens. There’s only one left. You stand up and go to get Nea off a hook, where she’s dangling without a trap on her head. Off she goes. You heal her with rapid speed, and then she puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Elyzabeth, don’t worry. There’s an exit gate right here. Let’s go!”

You both nod. Conveniently, the last generator goes off, just as you’re both running. Nea disappears to go to the other exit gate to give this scene more weight. 

So it’s with great displeasure that you notice Jake is at the exit gate. And he’s staring right at you. Specifically, the trap on your head. You frown at him.

“ _What_ ,” you can hear him say, voice disbelieving, and then Quentin runs past you. You’re relieved.

“Quentin! You’re alive,” you smile. Quentin beams. The exit gate is still being opened by Jake, and he turns away, and you take a moment to linger on how tragic your life is and how sad. But you’re glad you have such good friends, like Nea, and Quentin. Jake’s okay you guess.

So you gasp all dramatic when the Pig grabs you by the back of your shirt and yanks you backwards, onto the ground. Quentin gasps too. The exit gate is open now, and Jake is trying to drag Quentin out. You’re staring up at the Pig in fear.

“Your trap didn’t work!” you shout, triumphant, “I can escape.”

That seems to make the Pig angrier. And you remember that she had burnt a secret offering in the beginning of the Trial. Oh no.

Oh yes, the Pig seems to say. She raises her blade up, and stabs it down, which you block with your hand. You cry out like glass shattering and hope dying, and you give your friends one last look.

Just in time to watch Quentin break out of Jake’s grasp, and rush at you, shouting. And your eyes go wide like marbles, and twice as beautiful, like a prism, as you suddenly throw yourself out of the way and the Pig swipes down and Quentin-

The blades goes into Quentin’s throat. There is silence. He falls to the ground, and then you’re sprinting out of the exit, uncaring. Your trap doesn’t beep or even clink as you run into the fog. There are tears on your face, as usual.

And unseen to you, Jake remained.

The Pig and Jake stared at one another. Jake’s face had stubborn sort of disbelief to it, his hands balled into fists, and he crouched down next to Quentin quietly. Quentin was still alive- but not for long. That’s how these things usually went. Jake hesitated for a moment, then, carefully gripped Quentin’s hand. And he held his hand, right up until Quentin’s eyes closed, and his movements slowed, and he died. 

Silence settled over the area, snow falling overhead, no words exchanged. Not until Jake spoke.

“Her trap didn’t go off,” Jake whispered. He was still holding Quentin’s hand, but he looked over to Amanda, “I don’t. I don’t understand.”

Amanda was still staring at the exit gate, out into the swirling fog, like it had answers for her. 

“I’m gonna kill her,” Amanda promised. And as Jake looked down at his dead friend, he hoped she was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok next chapter is the really fun one. Mikey myers and etc


	7. Urlare

Calling the last Trial a disaster would’ve been too kind. Amanda had taken to mentally referring to it as “just awful.” But at least it was over with. And at least she didn’t have to see Elyzabeth again- for now. 

And so, Amanda was more than happy to go back to her home realm and relax. Try to think of some kind of plan to deal with the girl. Jake had said that he’d ask around too, but, Amanda had that uncomfortable feeling that she was (ugh) feeling _bad_ for him, so she warned him to keep his head down for now. Especially since Elyzabeth must have noticed them working together. 

“Goddamnit,” Amanda hissed, stomping through the fog as she walked towards home, “Just another test. Just have to figure this out and deal with it.”

The fog cleared a moment later, and Amanda had arrived. The Gideon Meat Packing Plant. The doors closed behind her with a heavy sort of sound, and she let her posture sag, her head falling as she pushed herself the last few legs of the journey to her room. She’d be fine for now. Just had to keep it going. She wasn’t even tired, really, just aggravated, and a little scared. But as soon as she had her mask off, her eyes zeroed in on the plans spread across one of the tables, and then she pounced on them, her exhaustion forgotten. There was still time- she could still figure this out. They’d be able to stop that girl, they just had to... they just had to figure this out.

So Amanda focused intently on her work, so much so that she almost didn’t notice that something was off. It took her a minute, actually. Enough time for her paranoia to begin screaming a warning, that same paranoia that has saved her life before. Just a pause, as she glanced around, and, wait, wasn’t that chair somewhere else before? And wasn’t that doorway supposed to be closed?

As casually as she could manage, Amanda stretched. Her gaze swept out in a careful line, picking apart the shadows and the unseen, and then she was looking back down at the paper, holding in a strangled noise of surprise. Someone was here. Someone was watching her. That little flash of a white mask in the darkness- how could he be here? That wasn’t allowed. No one could be here but her. How-

“Elyzabeth,” Amanda growled under her breath, a curse and an explanation all in one. God damnit. 

The sound, nearly inaudible, of footsteps on concrete. Amanda was already moving before she registered it, and then, there he was, standing in the doorway. The Shape. Michael Myers. 

Amanda hoped her smile was all teeth and no weakness, but it was a little hard. He was way too tall, and his entire posture seemed to radiate, “I’m here to murder you.” Well. Amanda had seen better.

“Hey!” she barked, staring at him, “Why are you here?”

Did she expect him to reply? No. Was that going to stop her? Also no.

“Did Elyzabeth send you?” Amanda demanded, and by then she was alternating between cautiously stepping around the room and mentally cursing everything under the sun that none of her traps had activated. The Shape seemed to consider her words, which meant that he tilted his head a little at the sound of Elyzabeth’s name, which was confirmation enough. And it just served to make Amanda all the more angry. She had her weapon, though, and she had speed and the advantage here. 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” she spat. And that was all it took for the fight to begin. 

Oddly, the Shape struck first. He swung his knife forward and down, hoping maybe for a lucky hit. But Amanda was faster, and she ducked and dodged, sliding to the left and then leaping towards him with her own blade outstretched, a roar leaving her throat. The metal just barely grazed his leg. 

Down. Amanda went to the ground at just the last second, the knife embedding into the table where her head had been a moment ago. Myers reached his hand out to grab her coat, and Amanda kicked his shin, fumbling and standing up only to be met by another slamming grab. Her back smashed against a pillar, and then the knife was raised up, and Amanda quickly used her own blade to block it at the last second. He had strength, though, so Amanda blindly yanked something from the table beside her, and then slammed it into his head. Judging by the groan of pain, and the fact that he immediately dropped her, Amanda had to guess that the brick did its job. 

“I don’t want to kill you,” Amanda attempted, and lied. Maybe he’d realize this was a fight he wouldn’t be able to win. Save her the trouble. But, her words didn’t seem to matter, because the Shape just slowly picked himself up, his injury forgotten. Whatever was driving him to do this would only stop when he or Amanda was dead. 

So Amanda prepared herself for another round, and on a whim, glanced to her left. Lucky for her, actually, because then she saw that it wasn’t just the two of them here now.

Amanda whispered a solemn “Fuck” just as the Doctor strolled in. 

Amanda wasn’t going to lie to herself. A one on one fight with the Shape would’ve been hard. A two on one fight was impossible. And if her idea was right, then it wasn’t going to be just two for long, either. 

She weighed her options as she backed up. Stay, and die for certain. Or run away, and maybe die.

Electricity danced across the floor as it raced towards her, and Amanda made her choice. She spun around on her heel, and bolted. The two other Killers chased after her. But one thing she had on them was speed, and so she sprinted through the other doorway, and hoped she’d be fast enough. Where was she even running to? She didn’t know. But, she had a feeling that the Exit Gate would be her ticket out of here. The same place the Survivors always used to slip out from. 

Judging by the crows forming some kind of path, her idea seemed like a good one. 

“Come on,” Amanda hissed to herself, “Come on,” and the sound of the almost maniacal laughter of the Doctor bounced around the concrete walls. Each burst of electricity got louder and louder as he alternately searched and chased, and that wasn’t even the worst part- Amanda couldn’t even hear the Shape. Her eyes kept darting around, almost in fear, but nothing. Not yet. 

The Exit Gate was in view. And it was open– Amanda had never felt such relief. She pushed an extra bit of strength into her speed, and at the last moment, she veered left instead of right, around a pile of containers. Smart move, as from the right, she watched the Shape emerge. Calling her next dodge skillful would be pushing it, but luck was fine if it kept her alive. She leapt down the stairs and then, not even a glance behind her, because she knew the other two Killers were hot on her trail. Into the fog she went.

Where, though? Where could she go? Amanda kept running, feeling her breathing go haggard, and then her face turned to one that was partially relieved and partially grim acceptance. She’d have to go to the forest, where Jake was at.

Hopefully Jake was ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amanda used [Brick] on Myers. It’s super effective


	8. Aiutare

When Jake had left the Trial, it was quiet. He was quiet. He’d walked through the fog and wiped bloody hands on his pants, and he tried not to let that gnawing sense of despair get to him. He tried.

But Quentin dying in his arms had been a new and unpleasant experience, and it was only going to get worse. Now that Elyzabeth seemed to understand what was going on.

Like a desperate, caged animal, Jake began to pace. Twigs and leaves crunched underfoot, like little hollow bones, like winter, cold. He paced, and he threw his arms out, and he pulled his frozen hands into fists and then he let out a howl of simple human despair. No one was around to hear it, and no one would’ve cared, not anymore. Death was closing in, and Jake was helpless to do anything to stop it. 

Jake didn’t want to die. He wasn’t ready to just give up, to lay down and fall asleep for the last time. He wanted to be free again. He wanted to see the sunrise, he wanted to see his mother, he wanted to see Quentin smile.

The shadows seemed to press in around him as he finally stopped pacing, and simply sat down, staring out into the fog and the darkness. If he kept walking, he’d reach the campfire again. And then Elyzabeth would have the perfect chance to have him get dealt with. Maybe she’d use Quentin this time. 

Jake tried to ignore the little voice that whispered, _But wouldn’t it be easier_. Instead, he kept staring into the fog.

He could almost make out something moving in it. But no one was around, so there was nothing. Still, though, maybe...

Maybe quickly became undoubtably, as the shadow refined, and the form of Amanda came into view. She didn’t have her mask on, which made her alarmed and determined expression all the most visible. She was running. Running from something, Jake decided as he shot up. Her sprint slowed to a run and skidded to stop when she was only a few steps away, and in between breaths, she managed to speak.

“Myers. And the Doctor,” she heaved, glancing behind herself with narrowed eyes, and then back to Jake, “Elyzabeth. They’re trying to kill me.”

And Jake almost asked why, but then he sucked in a breath like a hiss, “You tried to kill her last Trial.”

Amanda’s eyes went a little wild at that, and she growled, throwing a hand up, “And now she’s going to kill me?!”

Jake didn’t really have a response for that. He let Amanda catch her breath, and then he tried to figure out something to say, when, almost dancing on the wind, he heard a light noise. The sound of a bell. A death toll, for both of them.

“We need to go,” Jake stated, already backing up, “We need to go, now.”

Amanda spun around to some random spot in the woods, and then began to run, calling for Jake to follow her as they ran away. And then there was a woosh of displaced air behind them, as the Wraith decloaked, with that terrible clicking and groaning sound that made Jake’s skin freeze over. Too close. The Wraith’s burst of speed from becoming visible again was faster than they were, and his hand reached out to snatch Jake’s hood-

And if not for Amanda grabbing his wrist and yanking him forward, the Wraith would’ve. Jake stumbled for a moment, but Amanda didn’t let go, and then they were sprinting away, the sound of the Wraith’s chasing footsteps getting quieter. That didn’t mean they were safe, though. Not with the other two Killers out searching.

“Where are we going?” Amanda shouted and narrowly dodged a flying branch. Jake winced.

“I-“ he didn’t know. But he could find his way around any woods, so he reorientated himself and then, something that was almost a grimace, “The MacMillan estate!”

It was too late to turn back now. Jake could only hope that they’d be safe, that the Entity would have enough power for this. And the fog gradually thinned out to reveal the empty factory, with the trees towering around, and Jake and Amanda both slowed down. They stopped at a collapsed wall to catch their breath.

“Do you see anything?” Jake’s breathing was ragged, but he managed that question fine. Amanda pushed some hair out of her face and sneered at the treeline.

“Not yet.”

But that was fine. That was enough time to mentally pick a spot to hide, and then Jake was standing tall again, though wary, “I know a place. It’s this way.”

Amanda waved him off, “One second,” and so she wasn’t watching where he was going, and neither was Jake, because otherwise she would’ve noticed sooner. Too late now. She jumped forward with alarming speeds, “Watch o-“

A snap. Metal on bone, and Jake screamed, falling to the ground in an instant. The bear trap seized around his leg, and his eyes were wide with terror and a few surprised tears. His fingers were slippery with blood as he frantically tried to dislodge the trap, and Amanda was upon him in a breath, her hands methodically forcing the trap back open, letting Jake fall to the ground before snapping it back closed. They had a single moment of eye contact, before that sound of frenzied laughter echoed from the forest. 

Amanda sprung into action. She grabbed Jake and hauled him up, taking most of his weight as they half ran away from the scene- but the blood trail behind them might as well have been a red flag that begged to be followed. Finally, not even twenty feet away, the pair collapsed behind a wall. Jake’s breathing was broken by sounds of stifled pain. 

“Amanda-“

“Shut up,” and then she was trying to figure out a way to stem the blood. Every second counted. They were cornered, and yet, they couldn’t die like this. Not like this.

“Amanda. You need to go,” Jake’s voice cracked only a little from the hoarseness. Amanda resisted the urge to snap back at him, and he spoke, louder, “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry- you need to go-“

She couldn’t resist it for any longer, and she turned to him with fire in her eyes, “Shut up! Don’t say that! You’re going to be fine, I just need to get you out of here!”

Jake closed his eyes, like giving her some semblance of privacy to accept this, “You were a good friend. I’m sorry,” and then he reopened them, sorrow and remorse and exhaustion, “Hey. Stop her, won’t you?”

Amanda’s face was a mirror of Jake’s own, with the addition of an incompressible rage and grief, but her voice was level as she replied, “I will.”

The bell was getting closer now. The thunder of electricity, the sound of metal traps, the quiet shuffling of a mechanic jumpsuit- all too close. There was no more time.

And so Amanda ran away, as fast as she could. Jake quietly muttered without much humor, “how many boyfriends does one person need?” And then he closed his eyes, a shuddering, wet sounding breath, and gathered his will; he thought of sunrises, of seeing his mother again, of Quentin’s smile.

Amanda didn’t look back as she ran. Not even when Jake let out a single, pained scream, and there was the sound of flesh being torn and ripped, and the grim finality of death- of this death, never to return. Amanda, coward that she knew she was, held her gaze forward, and didn’t look back. 

Jake was dead. Jake was gone. Elyzabeth has killed Jake Park, and come hell of high water, Amanda would kill her too.


	9. Soffocare

You’re sad.

Everyone is sad, actually. These things may or may not be related. 

Everyone is sad, because Jake is dead. You knew he was dead, the instant that he died, and so you told everyone, and now they’re all sad. Quentin, especially. You don’t understand, and maybe that’s why you’re sad too. You’re also angry. You don’t understand why Quentin looks like someone tore out his heart and ate it- you’re here, and everything should be fine. Jake was mean, and now he’s dead. He was a villain. You’re the hero. Everyone- everyone should be happy. Everything should be happy.

“Stop crying!” you suddenly demand, and just like that, everyone stops crying. You have your head in your hands. Dwight shuffles towards you.

“Are you alright?-“ 

But, and unexpectedly, you shoot away from him. Your eyes are almost wild, “Leave me alone!”

Everyone looks worried for you. You sit back down, and your breathing is getting erratic, and yet, you still force out, “Jake was mean. He’s dead. You should be happy. Everything is fine!”

Like he’d never been crying at all, Quentin smiles at you. Because Jake was mean to you. Jake is dead because he was mean to you, and you’re the hero.

And you _are_ the hero.

Quentin smiles, like he wasn’t just nearly sobbing. Everyone around you looks sad now, but a happy sort of sad. Happy that Jake is dead, and sad because you’re sad. 

For once, it makes you feel not good. You stand up suddenly. You make an almost whinny, like a frightened horse, and you grab at your pigtails, eyes sweeping randomly over the crowd of your friends. All of them have the same smile. All of them have the same expression, the same posture. Something claws at your throat.

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” you shout. You’re the good guy. You’re the hero! You’re perfect and you never did anything wrong and everything is fine- so why doesn’t it feel right? Everyone is still staring at you. They haven’t blinked.

“It’s not my fault!” you cry out. Desperate. Because you didn’t do anything wrong. David makes a sympathetic noise.

“Course it’s not. You’re the hero.”

But the crows are above you. They’re quiet, but you notice them. You notice how they call- they’re judging you. They’re watching you. They’re landing at the spot where Jake usually sat, and the crows stare at you in a way that none of your friends do. Judgement. Cold and dark. Your friends have eyes that are bright and beautiful and completely hollow. 

You can’t take it. You can’t. You collapse onto the ground, and all of your friends rush towards you, all gentle sounds and worry and murmurs and apologies. You don’t hear a single one. No one understands- they don’t. They can’t understand why you’re sad, because it’s your fault. You just wanted them to be happy. You just-

You just wanted everything to be okay, and everyone to be happy and fine.

And so, for the first time, you cry real tears and sob and wail, letting your voice get hoarse with the anguish of sorrow and remorse and loneliness. You’re the hero. You just want to make things right. But Quentin forgets that Jake ever existed, and they all have that same hollow smile, that emptiness that you caused, and you don’t know what to do.

So you cry.


	10. Essere

It had been a while. Or maybe it hadn’t, maybe it had only been a few hours or a day. Amanda couldn’t tell- _couldn’t_ tell, how long it had really been.

Since Jake had died.

And here Amanda was. Standing back in the forest, feet dug into the dirt- cold dirt, like grave soil, like she was walking on someone’s grave and maybe it was her own or maybe it was Jake’s. Metaphors weren’t her strong suit. It didn’t matter; all that mattered was that terrible feeling clawing into her throat, rage, fetid and putrid hatred. Inhale, exhale. The air seemed sharp and jagged, or maybe that was because she was taking furious, clipped breaths, staring up at the sky like it had answers for her. Answers for why this happened, how to stop it, or why she felt so bad. Jake had called her a friend. Somehow, that made everything feel worse.

“I know you’re there!” Amanda shouted, hair flying in her face, “Answer me!” 

To the silence, to the crows, to the shadows that lurked and lingered. Oh, It was there. The Entity was always there. And for the first time, as Amanda seethed and roared, she prayed it would listen. Jake had always been better at talking to the crows than she was. But Jake was dead now. Lot of good that did him.

“Answer me!” Amanda yelled one last time, and the silence didn’t answer. Never had, probably never would. So Amanda just screamed in rage, and let the forest eat the sound, before slumping over and sitting on the ground. Cold soil. Graveyard. Felt cold like one, too. Amanda fumbled around her pockets and found the cigarettes from before, and suddenly, expectedly, she gave a startled and aborted chuckle as she shook the pack. 

The flick of a lighter, and then Amanda was quietly smoking, eyeing the clouds of smoke with a disconnected sort of expression. They curled around in the air and drifted away. 

“What’re we gonna do now?” Amanda asked the silence, as if expecting Jake to answer. He was gone, though. Nothing else to it. 

So Jake didn’t answer, but, to her surprise, a crow did. 

_Caw_

Amanda rose an eyebrow. The wordless staring contest began, and stretched on for what felt like an eternity. The crow cawed again.

_Caw_

“What?” Amanda grunted, and then she shooed the bird away with a frown, “Leave. He’s gone. Go.”

The crow didn’t leave. It jumped back a little and ruffled its wings, and continued to stare balefully at Amanda. Finally, she sighed, extinguishing her cigarette and standing up.

“He’s not coming back, you know,” her voice was surprisingly quiet, but brief, like listing off an interesting fact in a paper. The air around her was cold, and her gaze was colder.

For all that it could, the crow looked sad. it made Amanda feel a little bad for it. Begrudgingly, she extended her hand, letting the little thing hop up onto her arm.

“Yeah. Guess we both miss him a little, huh?” and she lightly stroked the crow like she’d seen Jake do, turning around to the woods again-

And only to meet with what must have been a flock of a hundred crows, all perched in the same tree. They murmured and chattered, and the little one on Amanda’s arm flew up to meet them. Sudden silence. The quiet snapped with the sound of groaning and bark shifting, and, though it was impossible, the tree morphed into spider like spikes, black and tinted a luminous orange in places. Amanda only blinked as the Entity revealed itself.

For all Amanda disliked the thing, at least it didn’t bother with small talk. So neither would she.

“Elyzabeth killed him, didn’t she?” Amanda asked, in that tone of voice that expected an answer she already knew. A weird clawing vibration chilled the area, and the crows made murmurs of consolation and loss. Amanda looked away. For a moment, she let herself wallow in a little pity. But, like sparks to the kindling of anger, that rage roared back to life again. 

“I’m going to kill her.”

The Entity made an anxious murmur. Excited. Uncertain. It made Amanda’s head hurt a little, the dual paradox of a concerned parent and the impatient executioner. 

Briefly, Amanda wondered just how she was going to go about killing Elyzabeth. Someone who was the star of their story, the hero. But a vicious smile was on Amanda’s lips, because, of course- what better way for a hero to die than by the villain. And Amanda was always good at that role.

Amanda’s attention returned to the present, as the Entity seemed to shift in on itself, limbs curling around and inward to tear away the tree bark and the weathered oak. A doorway. Flickers of light spilled through, revealing another forest scene, fog drifting out. Amanda’s smile was genuine.

She’d have one chance. And she would kill Elyzabeth, or die trying. For now, she simply stepped toward into that realm, and quietly awaited the arrival of the self proclaimed hero. 

It didn’t matter how Elyzabeth would die, just that she did. Just that she suffered. That she felt every inch of agony that was Jake’s last moments. That she never, ever got to see the sunrise again.


	11. Finire

It was time.

 

You blink. Oh- where are you? You were just at the campfire, and now you’re here. It’s a forest. you can see some buildings nearby, and you decide to go investigate them. It must be another Trial. Your friends will be here soon. At least, you hope so. Or maybe the other Killers will be here soon- the ones that you can’t help but love. You feel turmoil in your heart. Turmoil that you must push away, for the good of your friends. You quietly walk through the fog.

Amanda let out a quiet snort of approval as Elyzabeth came into view. Good; it was time to finish this. And with none of the other Survivors- or Killers- Amanda would have all the time in the world to live up to her promise. Silent as the howling wind, Amanda crouched down, and began to hunt. 

Your ears perk up, but, oh, it must just be the wind. Your auburn hair wisps around your face as you pluck away at a generator. Everything is going good. 

You wonder where the other Survivors are, though.

Amanda was only a few feet away, close enough that the generator’s slight heat was made apparent. And, more importantly, Elyzabeth. So Amanda prepared to roar to life, and- oh, god damnit.

You jolt forward, breaking into a better version of Meg’s sprint as the Pig curses behind you. You noticed her at the last second, and now you’re running. No- why is she here? She shouldn’t be here. She. She should be dead!

“Elyzabeth!” Amanda hollered, voice utter contempt and rage. Nothing else needed to be said, because that one word had it all. Her feet pounded the dirt as she chased after her prey. 

“Leave me alone!” you shout back in a frantic way. Oh no. You don’t know what to do! You squeeze your eyes shut as you leap over a conveniently placed pallet, “Someone will stop you!” And you can’t help but look around and hope that the mysterious Shape would be there, or the elusive Trapper. But no one is there. You’re alone. 

“No one’s coming to save you,” Amanda growled. The venom in her voice was deep and corrosive, like it was burning her lungs, and she couldn’t even care to resist it, “You’re gonna die here, you’re gonna die like you killed Jake!” 

Your eyes go wide like crystal orbs and twice as beautiful. At the sound of Jake’s name, though, the theatrics seem to shatter, and a wobbly expression teeters on your face. Your run slips up for just a moment. Jake. The memory comes unbidden- the terror he felt in his last moments. The pain. And still that love that he felt and died with. It stings like salt upon a wound.

“It’s not my fault,” you whisper. Quiet. Then, louder, “Why are you doing this? I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“You did everything wrong!” Amanda replied, and then she pushed everything she had into the chase.

It was a brutal chase- survival and anger and desperation. This realm was new and unkind to both of them, like the Entity was grappling with itself in the shadows and mist. Elyzabeth stumbled and ran and cried, and Amanda frothed at the mouth with rage and hatred. That grim, dark, gleeful part of herself that enjoyed seeing Elyzabeth terrified like a little rat- utter joy at her suffering and despair. It was intoxicating.

And it was a distraction. Amanda didn’t need distractions. She was going to end this now, and forever. No more.

An exit blocked. Another. Elyzabeth, backed into the proverbial corner. The room had one exit and Amanda wasn’t going to let her get away.

It was over.

 

It’s over. You’re done. The Pig has you now, and you have a feeling that this is going to be it. Somehow- somehow you feel like you won’t be coming back if you die here.

And for the first time in your life, you are afraid. 

You don’t know what to do. You don’t know what to say. But the words want to come out anyway and you can’t stop them, letting them fall, nonsensical and sensical and real.

“I. I just wanted everyone to be happy,” you cry. It’s a bitter feeling, “Everyone and everything is so bad here. I wanted everything to be okay and everyone to be happy,” and you look up suddenly, your eyes a true brown and bloom with something alive for the first time, “It would’ve been perfect. Everything would have been perfect. I just needed more time, and we all could have been happy. Even you.”

“Happy?” Amanda hissed, stalking forward, “Happy? Did you see what you were doing? Do you even realize what happened?” 

“Yes, I do!” you suddenly shout, as if finding your voice, “Wasn’t it- wasn’t it better?” your voice cracks, “They were all happier. Bill laughed. Quentin could sleep. Michael fell in love and Freddy was dead. Wasn’t it better?”

Amanda paused for a moment. Just a moment. Yes, Freddy was dead. And that was better. But Jake was dead too. Dead, dead, dead. Like a pig in a factory, gutted away from family and left to die.

“That wasn’t happiness,” Amanda stated. All the finality of her voice, held together like a solemn prayer, “All you did was control them. They couldn’t feel anything but that. And that isn’t... that isn’t living. You might as well be dead.”

You flinch. Your eyes are a little wild, and despite shrinking back, you shout, “I didn’t do anything wrong! I just wanted them to be happy!”

There’s tears in your eyes. Why are you crying? Weren’t you happy? Didn’t- you can’t remember your life before. You can’t remember if you even had one. All you remember is that you wanted to make everything better. Sunrises and happiness and nothing else ever again.

“Jake’s dead, because of you,” Amanda whispered, “Do you think he’s happy?”

You can’t take anymore. The tears overwhelm you. You’re desperately trying not to think about it. You’re doing a good job, everyone’s happy, everyone’s fine, and you’re happy and everything’s happy! Right? But you keep thinking about Quentin, and Jake. You think about your friends. Is this right? Aren’t they happy? Aren’t you happy?

Is it happiness, if you took away whatever choices they had otherwise?

You’re on the ground now. You’re holding your chest, like something is about to break. You’re staring at the ground. 

“He’s gone! He’s not coming back!” Your mood warps to anger, but you’re still not looking back at the Pig, “I killed him and he’s never coming back and he’s gone!” You devolve into a pathetic fit of sobs at the end. You’re waiting for the Pig to get angry and strike you.

You’re waiting.

But Amanda didn’t. She stared at Elyzabeth with a detached sort of pity. 

You can’t see it, though. You’re still staring at the ground. Is that blood? Is that your blood? You feel like something is breaking inside you. Your chest hurts. There’s tears in your eyes.

The answer, to your earlier question, is no. They weren’t happy. They weren’t happy at all.

And just like that, it shatters. 

Amanda stepped back suddenly, watching with wide eyes as Elyzabeth seemed to fracture. At her chest, first, cracks appearing in her very being. They spiderwebbed outward, and from each crack, wisps of light reached out. The divides deepened, spread more, to the very ends of her hands that clutched her chest. The entire time, she mouthed the word ‘no’. And finally, Elyzabeth looked up.

You lock eyes with Amanda. Your eyes are great pools of light now. It’s painful. It hurts more than anything you’ve ever felt in your life, and this is it. You’re dying. And dead. Yet you still look at her.

“I’m sorry.”

Amanda flinched, the voice sounding of broken glass and running water. 

It isn’t enough. You look at her and you know every single thing she has been through in her life. You can feel the pain and the suffering and the sadness and the rage. You killed her only friend and it isn’t enough to say sorry, is it? It isn’t enough.

You’re dying now. You’re dead. It doesn’t matter, then, if you do one last thing.

With force, you pry away one hand from your chest with a wail. The light explodes outwards like blood from a wound. But you smack the hand down onto the ground, and the light smears across the concrete, and you’re still looking her in the eyes, as you manage the final words you’ll ever say.

“Tell him I’m sorry too.”

Fingers dig into pavement. The light turns nova. The sound is a cacophony, and somewhere in there are your screams too. 

Amanda shielded her eyes and tried to block out the noise, and what felt like an eternity came and went before it all went quiet and dark. A tentative blink, and then Amanda slowly peered into the room. 

Elyzabeth was gone. Amanda brutally fought back the vague feeling of pity, and blinked a few more times at that curdling feeling in her throat. It was almost enough to ignore the sudden and cacophonous sound of crows calling outside. Almost. But, Amanda managed to drag herself nearly listlessly from the room, and out into the forest, if only to glare at the birds-

If only to look at the shape that lay on the ground. The one with crows next to it. One of the crows was trying to nest in the hood.

Amanda stepped forward- no. It couldn’t be. It was. It was, “Jake!” 

The figure stirred. And Jake Park slowly rose his head, gazing blearily up at Amanda.

“What... happened?”

For once, Amanda didn’t have a snarky or sardonic remark. Only a small, genuine smile. A little bitter, actually, as she remembered Elyzabeth’s parting words.

_”Tell him I’m sorry too.”_

So Amanda sat down next to her friend, and began to tell the rest of the tale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Freddy AINT COMIN BACK


	12. Ricordare

Time passed. Eventually, Jake and Amanda stood back up. And eventually, they both began to make their way out of this realm- wherever this was. Occasionally, Jake would hold his side at some phantom pain, or tense up as if waiting to hear a sound. Amanda, for once, didn’t needle him about it, simply nudging him forward through the trees. 

Words had already been said. The story was told and done. But when Amanda blinked, she could still see sunspots in her vision from where Elyzabeth had died. Died, or was unmade. Same thing. For the most part, Amanda simply felt relief. A tired sort of relief, too. For all that she felt a vague sort of pity for the girl, most of all, she was just glad it was done. And glad she wouldn’t have to sleep with her eyes open anymore. 

Meanwhile, as they closed in on the middle ground of the forest- where they’d soon part ways- Jake was shifting nervously. Branches snapped underfoot, his breath misted in the air, and finally, he muttered out, “Do you think anyone else remembers?”

Would they even remember? Would they remember Elyzabeth at all? Would they return to normal? Jake chewed at his lip as he walked along, and Amanda lightly jabbed him. Light for her. 

“You won’t know until you get there. Stop worrying, you’re going to give me a headache,” and then she glanced over at him, voice getting a little softer, “Hey. It’ll be fine.”

And Jake believed her. Or at least, hoped she was right.

The familiar clearing came into view, exactly as remembered and just as it always would be. Both of them stopped. Jake scratched an invisible wound and Amanda eyed the trees.

She was the first one to speak. 

“I’ll see you around sometime, Jake,” in a rare display of affection, she patted his shoulder, smiling, “Maybe I’ll go easy on you next time, too.”

Jake snorted. 

“Stay safe,” he waved. 

“I always do.”

And then the two parted ways. Back into the forest each.

Jake made it to the campfire first. And he was slow as he walked forward, cautious, uncertain, his hands balled into fists at his sides. Everyone was quietly conversing as normal- Dwight was making a disgusted face and Nea was laughing hard and David was wolf-whistling and-

Quentin. Jake’s eyes stopped on him, and his breath paused and stuttered in his throat. Now there was that slight twinge of fear, coming back to the surface. Still, Jake walked towards him. Only a few steps away, he stopped, opening his mouth with no words coming out.

Quentin turned to him, and... smiled.

“Jake!” Quentin shot off the log, and then nearly tripped leaping over it, laughing, “You’re back!”

And as Quentin gave Jake a relieved embrace, and Jake returned it, he couldn’t help but look around the fire too. Everything was normal again, and for the first time in forever, he smiled in relief, hugging Quentin in return. Yeah, he was back.


End file.
